


In Vino Veritas

by BlueTheTerrible



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Strap-Ons, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-03 13:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11532882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTheTerrible/pseuds/BlueTheTerrible
Summary: Emma drunkenly texts Regina, during a night out. Regina confronts her about it, and Emma promises never to do it again, but is that what Regina really wants?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Explicit for later chapters.
> 
> Not really sure how this is going to go, just writing and seeing where it takes me. 
> 
> Constructive Criticism welcome!

Emma’s forehead rests solidly on the mercifully cool counter of Granny’s diner, her arms splayed out to either side of her limp figure, a groan rumbling from her chest.

“I’m never drinking again. If you ever see me pick up alcohol again, just save me time and punch me in the face, Ruby, I swear” she moans. “Seriously, what was even _in_ those?”

Ruby laughs, brightly, and Emma hates her a little bit for her inability to be afflicted with hangover symptoms like a regular person. “I think that depends on which drink, of the _many_ you consumed, that you’re referring to.” She pats Emma’s hair gently and slides a cup of coffee across the counter, to rest just beside her head, so that the smell wafts directly into Emma’s nostrils. Emma raises her head a quarter of an inch to peer blearily at the mug’s contents and gingerly reaches for it, sitting up slightly and taking a slow sip - groaning again, though this time in appreciation.

“Nectar of the Gods, Rubes.”

The door chime sounds behind her but Emma can’t be bothered to turn around, too much of her brain consumed by the overwhelming goal of _staying alive and not puking_.

A sultry voice appraises her from behind and she chokes on her coffee as she hears “Miss Swan” drip wryly from what she can only imagine are flawlessly lined lips (honestly, it’s nine in the morning, on a Sunday, how does Regina always look so perfect and manicured?) and she turns as slowly as she can, trying to appear as though the movement is because she can’t be bothered, but really just trying to keep the spinning to a minimum, and she congratulates herself -thinking she probably pulls it off - until her eyes meet an unconvinced arched eyebrow and crossed arms. She glances down to the irritated high heel clad foot tapping on the floor ( _uh-oh_ ) and bites her lip, wide eyed, as she meets Regina’s eyes again.

“Heyyy” she slides out, grinning in what she hopes is a professional, and not at all hungover manner and rakes a hand through her blonde curls, trying her best to appear as though she isn’t in stage four of a four stage death hangover.

Regina’s gaze flicks to the movement of her hand but is quickly re-focused on her smudged eyes, the inevitable product of falling drunkenly into bed at a late hour without removing her makeup, and then single mindedly focusing on coffee when she woke up, without even the energy to shower before she stumbled into Granny’s Diner to beg Ruby for a caffeinated liquid cure.

Brown eyes narrow as they focus on Emma’s face, once again. The eyebrow is still quirked as Regina asks, sarcastically, “Have a productive evening, did you?”

Emma suspects she’s being judged and her voice is laced with an edge when she replies “As far as I was aware, I was off on the weekends, therefore how I spend my time is none of your business, Madam Mayor.”

A glare flashes across Regina’s face as her arms uncross - her hands clench into fists at her sides, and she steps closer to Emma, encroaching on her space, and hisses “Your personal time is indeed yours, until it interferes with _my_ personal time. Perhaps consider that I might have better things to do with my weekend than answer inebriated explicit text messages from my employees, and reflect on your professional choices in the future!”

The blonde startles, confused. “Inebriated explicit text messag-“ oh _fuck_!” She hurriedly reaches for her phone as Regina’s eyes widen - an expression that, on another person, Emma might read as sudden fear and realization - and she whirls around and is out the door before Emma can even unlock her phone.

Emma clicks on the text message icon with a sinking feeling, and sure enough Regina’s name is at the top of her message list, meaning she was the most recent conversation. Emma’s stomach drops, as she clocks the time stamp on the last message – 04:39:00 AM – and she clicks to open the conversation with a growing feeling of dread.

She lets out a whimper and collapses against the bar. Ruby grabs her hand and attempts to read the text messages and Emma lets the phone slide from her fingers, too paralyzed to even protest, as Ruby laughs uproariously.

“Jesus Christ, Em, I thought you were a ‘Professional Lesbian’” she punctuates her assessment with air quotes “but this is absolute crap as far as pickup lines go.”

Emma glares at her, though she can’t help but laugh a little as well. “Not a ‘Professional Lesbian’ Rubes, just a regular one. I can’t believe I told Regina Mills – MY BOSS - that I wanted her to wear a backless dress so I could take it off of her – _with my teeth_!”

Her brain sobers a bit as she realizes that there could be potential professional ramifications to her actions – she could lose her job to a sexual harassment suit, could Regina stop her from seeing Henry if she didn’t have a job anymore? Would she? Emma wasn’t sure.

She let out an exhale. “Shit. I better go talk with her.”

“Yeah, maybe this time start with ‘Hello’, but that’s just a suggestion.”

Ruby’s laughter follows Emma out onto the street, and she sighs, jamming her hands into the pockets of her red leather jacket and looking up and down the street for some hint of which way Regina went, but seeing no sign of her. Muttering curses, she sets off for Mifflin Street, knowing unconsciously that Regina would inevitably seek out the metaphorical high ground in this skirmish.

Striding up the walk to the door, she knocks firmly, hearing the sound echo through the large house, and steeling herself for a very uncomfortable situation. _I’m never drinking again_ , she thinks to herself, and laughs, knowing that it will probably take her all of a week to be talked back out with Ruby and Belle.

She knocks again, hearing movement from inside, but receiving no answer.

“C’mon Regina, I know you can hear me knocking!” she implores.

The door flies open and she is met with a fuming Regina. She automatically takes a step backwards but surges forward again, refusing to be intimidated ( _even if she does deserve it, a bit_ ). But Regina has also stepped forward, to fill the space left by her retreat, so when she returns to gain the ground she had lost they are nearly nose to nose on Regina’s front porch.

“How can I help you, Miss Swan” Regina snaps. “Have you come to harass me some more? This is quite inappropriate, I have to say. I didn’t have the highest hopes for your level of professionalism, considering your less than delicate handling of situations in the past, but this is beyond even what I would have expected –“

“ _Regina_ ” Emma interrupts, massaging the bridge of her nose as she feels a migraine coming on “Could you just not, please?”

The response is sharp and guarded. “What do you want Sheriff?”

Emma grits her teeth and looks up at Regina, from underneath her eyelashes, attempting to look sheepish but endearing at the same time.

“Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, with my texts last night – they were way over the line for two colleagues. I had one too many drinks, and I just texted my stream of consciousness, I promise it won’t happen again. I don’t want to lose this job, and I don’t want you to stop me from seeing Henry.”

Regina bites her lip and regards Emma with strange eyes. “So, the only reason you’re apologizing is because you think I’m going to fire you, or prevent you from seeing our son?”

“Well, yeah…I mean no…I mean…I just…”

This response is rewarded with an eye roll “Eloquent as usual, Miss Swan”.

Emma lets out a huff of frustration and tries to figure out how to explain that she meant what she had texted, but she hadn’t meant to text it _that way_ , and was kind of nervous about her job, but still could go for what was described in the messages, but definitely not at the expense of Henry, or (if she was honest with herself) at the expense of the delicate and tentative peace she had achieved with the woman standing in front of her, but sometimes her hormones got the best of her and dammit, Regina was _hot_ , and sometimes her carefully constructed self-imposed boundaries weren’t enough to stop her from reaching out.

“I just…” she begins carefully “want you to know that I won’t make you uncomfortable again.”

Regina stares at her, blankly, perhaps waiting for more.

“I won’t drunk text you ever again?” she tries, hoping that maybe _that_ was the right thing to say.

Regina glares at her. So _not_ the right thing to say. Interesting. Emma contemplates her next words carefully, weighing them on the tip of her tongue, before being unable to resist provoking the other woman’s calm, just a tad, and she needles -

“So, Madam Mayor, why were you up at four thirty in the morning and answering my texts?”

Regina mask startles for a split second before slamming back down into place.

“Because _some of us_ actually catch up on our paperwork, _Miss Swan_.” she bites out. “So if that’s all?”

She turns without waiting for Emma’s reply and storms back into her house, slamming the door behind her. Emma hears the deadbolt fall into place and stands frozen for a second on the doorstep, before falling back and retreating down the street, musing quietly to herself.

_Well that went as well as could be expected…_


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two
> 
> Just a short little segue.
> 
> No smut yet, just setting up the smut :)

Emma rolls into work late the next day. She had stopped by the diner early this morning for an obligatory bear claw and fresh coffee, and had been waylaid by Ruby who demanded to hear _every single detail_ of her talk with Regina, right down to inflection and angle of eyebrow tilt, and had only been able to break away after promising to catch up with her and tell her everything, after work that evening.

_Being late isn’t really so bad when you’re the only person in your office though, right?_

She’s not very good at being an adult (deadlines, suggested work hours, following rules, stuff like that). Never has been. That’s actually how she ended up here, isn’t it? Having a child alone, in jail, as a teenager, no purpose in life, eventually chasing and catching criminals for money – one paycheck away from possibly having to turn to a life of crime herself. Really not the poster child for responsibility.

She has a purpose now, though. Keeping the residents of Storybrooke safe is a full-time job; people from, _medieval times maybe - she isn’t sure_ , have a way of not-really-assimilating-the-greatest. Attempting to set public property on fire to ward off the spread of sickness instead of simply utilizing the medical facilities that the town possesses, or taking crossbows to trespassers, all of these are examples of why she – a cultural mediator, if you will – is a necessity in the town and she truly feels like the citizens are directly benefitting from her aide.

Well, most of the citizens, anyway. How _was_ Regina Mills so skilled in transcending the cultural differences between the two realms, having (as far as Emma was aware) no more experience than any other person, besides herself, with the outside world, yet passing as a regular citizen well enough to fool even Emma. Emma, who has seen enough strange shit in her life to be, at the very least, open minded. Emma, who was fooled into thinking that it was probably more likely that Henry was imagining far-fetched fantasies, or even (though she’ll never admit it) possibly mentally deranged, than that Regina was anything but exactly what she said she was.

_Can’t really be blamed for not believing in a cursed town, though, that is kind of a little far-fetched._

She’ll have to ask sometime. Sometime a long, _long_ ways from now when she is out of the doghouse for being an _idiot_. A drunken idiot. But really, could her mind turning to Regina, when she has only the mental capability to hold a single thought be anything but a compliment? Apparently, yes. Yes, it can.

She sets the pastry down on her desk and slouches low in her chair, propping her feet up on her desk, briefly skimming through a few of the emails that had been sent to the Sheriff’s Office.

A few of the top priorities, marked “extremely urgent” _she’s definitely going to have to have a talk with the citizens of this town about what constitutes an emergency_ \- Cat stuck in a tree, familial land dispute, suspicion of sorcery being used to impede the grown of an herb garden...

 _Nothing that can’t wait_ she thought thankfully, reaching for her donut and taking a bite, eyes rolling back happily at the impending sugar coma. Suddenly the door is slammed open and Regina breezes through, holding a manila folder in her hands, and making a beeline for Emma’s desk. Emma freezes, still halfway through her bite, eyes wide, tracking the other woman’s progress across the room. She swallows hastily, dropping her feet to the floor, and stands to meet what looks _uncannily_ like an oncoming thunderstorm, swiping her hands quickly across her black jeans to clean the powdered sugar off of her fingers, and accidentally leaving trails of white across the dark fabric.

“Hey Regin-“

“Sheriff Swan, where are your reports on the structural integrity of the park buildings? I have a city council meeting this afternoon and I’m due to submit a request for expansion, which _cannot happen_ if I don’t have your report to include with my presentation.”

Emma blinks. _Structural integrity of the…shit!_ “Oh, the report is, um…well actually, the funny thing about that report is-“

Regina’s eyes narrow in anger and she snaps “You didn’t even start it, did you?”

“Actually, I did! I did, and then, see, I went down to Archie’s to help him find Pongo, because he had escaped, and then I went over to the school to help Snow set up a charity event with the kids, and then I came back here and I didn’t know what to put for some of the boxes on the forms, so I started to Google how I should fill it out, and then there were some cat videos, and then I…uh…I forgot about it.” she finishes lamely, rubbing the back of her neck, guiltily.

Regina grits her teeth and stares at Emma, who is suddenly very interested in making sure that the pens on her desk are all neatly aligned with the edge of her calendar, and sighs.

“I need you to finish that report. I can ask for an extension, this time, but they won’t grant me more than twenty-four hours.”

Emma nods, relieved. Regina rolls her eyes at Emma’s chagrin. “You obviously cannot be trusted to complete paperwork, under deadline, without supervision. Come by tonight and we can work on it together. Say six o’clock?”

Emma eyes dart up to meet Regina’s and she looks surprised. “Six o’clock, at your house?” she repeats slowly, making sure she heard Regina correctly.

Regina looks like she’s reconsidering and Emma hastily agrees, before Regina has a chance to withdraw her offer. “Yeah six will be great!” and Regina raises an eyebrow but turns to leave. “Bring wine, Miss Swan” she tosses, over her shoulder, and Emma’s eyes widen. “Wait, red or white?” she calls after Regina, who simply declares “We’re having chicken.”

Emma leaves work early and casually panic texts Ruby:  

[](https://www.flickr.com/gp/152811687@N03/7hE89s)   
[](https://www.flickr.com/gp/152811687@N03/390hgz)

Emma rolls her eyes and laughs, heading for the grocery store, after making sure all the necessary paperwork is tucked neatly into a folder in the side pocket of her car door.

_This should be fun._


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, Chapter Three and Chapter Four are up. I wrote them together, but it seemed too long to keep as a single chapter, so I split it in the middle.
> 
> Please note, I have added a "strap-on" tag - you'll see that in Chapter Four. 
> 
> As to the timeline for this story, I'm not exactly sure. I would say some time early on; Regina has magic and Emma knows about the curse and all the characters, but not too far into their relationship, so whenever that is. It doesn't really matter for the story, but if you see anything contradictory about the timeline, I request suspension of disbelief, lol.

She arrives at Regina’s house at five fifty, debates whether or not to knock on the door early, decides to go ahead, makes it all the way to the door, chickens out, and sits in the car for another nine minutes, pretending she forgot something _vitally important_ _(yet shockingly hard to find)_ in the glove compartment, just in case Regina sees her acting like a crazy person.

At _exactly_ six o’clock, she knocks on the door, and Regina opens it, greeting her with an expression that suggests she’s trying not to laugh, and steps back so that Emma can enter. Emma makes her way inside and shuffles awkwardly in the spacious entryway, until Regina takes pity on her, leading her into the kitchen.

Emma hands over the wine she brought, a Riesling, a Cab Sav, and a Moscato (if she’s being honest, just one of every white wine that the grocery store had available, because Google had said white wine paired with chicken), and makes some _definitely real_ excuse about how the store had been running a buy four, get ten percent off special which she _totally p_ ulls off.

Regina accepts the offering, without comment, though her eyes dance merrily, catching the light. Emma is left staring a bit _too_ long, though she’s not sure if she’s drawn to the mirth or the pleasing aesthetic, and she clears her throat nervously, attempting to diffuse the awkwardness.

“So, um, how’s…things…?” she finishes lamely.

“Things are good” Regina answers, sounding slightly amused, “a bit slow at the moment, thanks to all the extra work the Sheriff’s department has been doing lately. It’s amazing how much less there is for me to do, when the citizens have somewhere else to take their trivial complaints.”

Emma eyebrows shoot up, surprised. “Yeah, actually, David and I have been developing a virtual complaint system. It really helps because they can flag their complaints, depending on urgency, so we know what to take care of first. Some of them still insist on marking _everything_ as ‘extremely urgent’ but we’re working on it.”

The other woman smiles, briefly, glancing at her as she struggles to uncork one of the bottles of wine “That’s quite impressive, Emma.”

Emma gawks, astounded, for a minute, until she catches herself, unused to the ease of the older woman - a lightness that appears to be brought forth by the comfort and security of her home, the emblematic safe place that they now stand in. Emma suddenly grasps the enormity of being invited within this sanctuary, and wonders if Regina _ever_ actually feels safe in the outside world, a twinge of guilt accompanying this revelation.  

She moves forward and takes the bottle of wine out of Regina’s grasp, her coarse fingers trailing briefly over the other woman’s delicate, neatly manicured hands, and she clears her throat, nervous for some reason, at their sudden closeness. She flashes a quick smile as she backs away, clearing some space between the two of them, and pops the cork out in one swift movement, handing the bottle opener back, and glancing around for appropriate glasses. Somehow, she doesn’t see Regina as being a ‘wine from a superhero coffee mug’ type of girl, and she wants to make an impression - endeavoring to maintain her best behavior in the face of a somewhat intimidating, and vastly classier, dinner partner.

Regina leans forward and around, reaching behind her, to open the cabinet, her breasts abruptly pressed against Emma’s own, her exhalation of breath warm against Emma’s ear. She shivers, and tries to relax as Regina steps back, two wine glasses clinking lightly in her hand. Regina’s eyes move down her face, from her parted lips, to the rise and fall of her chest, and back up to meet her eyes again.

Her lips are moving but Emma is having a hard time concentrating on what she’s saying, having to shake her head a bit to clear the sudden daze that’s fallen over her. She sees Regina holding the glasses outstretched to her, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips, and she takes them automatically.

_Pour the wine, that must be it._

She pours them a glass each, and she follows Regina’s orders about the kitchen, the other woman directing her, here and there, with light touches – more contact than she’s seen Regina engage in with anyone, she thinks, and wonders how she’s gotten so lucky as to be within the inner sanctum, treated like a…friend maybe? She’s not sure what this can be classified as, exactly, nor is she too bothered by taxonomies just now, the moment far too pleasant to interrupt with tense scrutiny.

The plates that Regina sets forth look like main courses at a five-star restaurant _, because of course they do,_ the placement and presentation exact, just like the woman herself. The dishes are exquisite and Emma can’t help the small moans of delight emanating from her throat as she eats.

“Shit Regina, this is amazing” she groans.

“Are you incapable of complimenting without vulgarity?” Regina says, raising an eyebrow, but Emma can tell she appreciates the sentiments, sees the small smile playing around her lips, emphasized by the glass or two of wine that they’ve consumed in the interim.

“Sure, you should have said.” Emma drawls, and acclaims “Regina, this chicken is, _maybe_ , the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” She freezes, the bold double entendre of her words only striking her after they’ve left her mouth, as usual, but Regina merely chuckles, a blush tinging her cheeks and murmurs “Oh, I highly doubt that.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot up, _is Regina playing back_? She decides to push her luck.

“Well, maybe the second best.” She teases, “The best was certainly not food.” Grinning up at Regina cheekily, she sips her wine and tries to calculate how her comments have been received.

Regina’s blush is even more evident, now, and she shakes her head slightly, laughing at the irreverent Sheriff’s brashness. Emma smiles, content with the flushed Mayor’s sudden inelegance, scoring what she imagines is her first _and probably only_ point of the evening.

They finish their food under an easy ambiance, bantering lightly, and Emma insists on clearing the table when they finish, batting away Regina’s protests, laughing as she artfully maneuvers the dishes while Regina watches her, with thoughtful eyes.

“Want to work on that paperwork now Ms. Mills?” she queries, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms and legs crossed casually, and Regina startles like she’s forgotten their entire purpose for being there in the first place.

“Oh, yes, that will be fine.” comes the reply, Regina’s face clouding slightly, and she stands, leading the way into her study, Emma trailing behind like a dejected puppy, unsure what she’s done to cause the mood shift, and wondering idly what it would take to make Regina smile again.

Regina opens the double doors and ushers Emma into her inner sanctuary, and Emma is reminded of how in awe she was of this room when she first entered it. This time, she’s less restrained in her wonder, jaw dropping in amazement. There’s even more books in here now than there were before, and Emma wonders regretfully if that was something that had happened when Henry wasn’t here – when Regina had nothing and no one but herself to fall into, did she fall into books to survive? Emma knew the feeling, falling into novels and journals was a time-honored coping strategy of hers, one she employed often, though now it was less about numbing the pain, and more about expanding her mind.

Engrossed in the bookshelf, she doesn’t notice Regina watching her nervously, until she looks up, meeting the other woman’s eyes. Regina’s hands twist, almost timidly, out of place for her character, and Emma knows without words that she’s being shown something that very few people get to see.

“It’s a great collection. I love almost all of these.”

Regina smiles, seemingly relived, and she moves to stand next to Emma, running her finger shyly over some of the titles on the shelves. Not a speck of dust is anywhere to be seen, Emma realizes. These are well-loved extensions of Regina, not merely stacks of bound paper. “You’re welcome to borrow any of them, whenever you like.” she offers, and Emma smiles back at her, and they are standing close, _really close_ Emma thinks, suddenly, and her eyes drop to Regina’s lips, running her tongue unconsciously over her own. Regina unconsciously mimicks the movement, and Emma is struck with a sudden urge to lean forward and kiss her, wants to feel the softness of the other woman’s lips on her own.

Her body sways forward with intent, but Regina pulls back nervously, and turns away, moving to her desk, flustered, busying herself with shuffling the paperwork. Emma’s breath catches in her throat. She curses internally, but Regina doesn’t comment on Emma’s movement, merely begins discussing the forms they have to work on, and Emma breathes a sigh of relief.

_That was close._

She isn’t sure if this night is helping to make up for her inebriated text messages or not, but she’s sure that if Regina had had issues with being inappropriately drunk texted, she’ll have problems with Emma lunging at her for an impromptu make out session.

_Get it together, Swan!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.
> 
> Like a lot.
> 
> Sorry, not sorry.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE BE SMUT.
> 
> SMUT, SMUT, SMUT.
> 
> BE WARNED. 
> 
> Although you were the one who clicked on an explicitly rated story, so really it's your own fault. 
> 
> Cheers.

She follows Regina over to her desk, both of them standing close together, reviewing the documents. Regina is efficient and precise, Emma careless and hasty, and Regina has to chastise her gently when she puts the wrong thing in the wrong box, several times.

“My stores of white-out aren’t limitless, Emma, do try to pay attention.” she chides, covering yet another mistake with the forgiving liquid and blowing on it gently, lips pursed, holding the drawn-out caricature of a kiss a tad too long. Emma is decidedly _not_ paying attention to the paperwork, at that moment, hypnotized by the way Regina’s lips are puckered and full, blowing warm air onto the paper.

Her gaze lingers too long - Regina looks up and catches her staring, and her eyebrows raise in confusion. “What?” she asks, and Emma can’t help but reach out, drawn like a moth to a flame.

“You, uh, have something right…” and she swipes her thumb over the non-existent speck of dust, at the corner of Regina’s mouth. Regina’s eyes close, and she hums contentedly. Emma forgets to reclaim her hand, enthralled by the sound and feel of the other woman.

_Fuck it._

She leans in slowly, trying to give Regina time to pull away, should she want to. Regina’s eyes fly open and fix on her, but she doesn’t pull away, gaze merely widening as Emma’s lips meet hers. Emma’s lips ghost over Regina’s, still waiting for the inevitable moment where Regina pulls away, but it doesn’t come, instead she closes her eyes and almost breathes Emma in, falling into the sensation. Taking this as further invitation, she slides her hand around to cup Regina’s jawline, deepening the kiss, raising her other hand to take hold of the white out Regina still holds, frozen slightly in shock, and placing it safely on the desk next to them.

Regina squeaks, a most un-Regina-like sound, and Emma grins wolfishly against her lips, raising her free hand to mirror the first, both hands now cupping Regina’s face possessively, yet gently. Regina’s hands raise dazedly to rest her fingertips lightly on Emma’s forearms, as though they are the only points of stability she can cling to, in an increasingly distorted world.

Emma takes a step into Regina and turns them swiftly, moving forward hungrily, walking them backwards until Regina’s ass hits the edge of the desk. Her hands fall to the undersides of Regina’s thighs, lifting the other woman until she has her on the edge of the workspace, papers crumpling beneath toned skin, legs wrapping around Emma’s waist, fingers tangling in Emma’s hair.

She moans forcefully into Emma’s mouth, and Emma groans, biting Regina’s lip reflexively, drawing a whimper from the other woman. Emma pulls back, breathing hard, resting their foreheads together, and Regina fists the front of her shirt, keeping her as close within her orbit as possible, unwilling to cede distance, legs tightening around her, and keeping her pressed against her center. She rolls her hips experimentally against Emma’s muscular stomach and they both gasp.

“Regina” Emma pants, unable to help grinding her pelvis forward, into Regina’s heat, in response “if you want me to stop, you have to tell me, _now_.”

Regina pulls back, examining Emma’s face, as a hint of fear flickers across her face. “Do _you_ want to stop?”

Emma pulls back as well, hands flying up to Regina’s face again, staring at her. “Christ, Regina, no. I want to” she bites her lip, dropping her head back with a pained grunt, and growls “I want to fuck the shit out you, honestly.”

Regina leans forward, nipping Emma’s neck with blunt teeth, and feels Emma’s groan rumbling through her chest. She sucks on the pulse point she finds, and revels in the red mark she leaves on Emma’s porcelain skin.

Emma is breathing heavily, and Regina can feel the raw power beneath her touch - the effort that Emma is putting forth to restrain herself apparent in every shaky exhale.

She grabs Emma’s collar tightly and pulls her close, whispering “You don’t have to hold back” and tilts her head back to observe the effect her words have, watching as Emma’s gaze drops down towards her, and a thrill shoots through her like a bolt of lightning, straight to her core as she sees Emma’s pupils dilate to near complete blackness.

Sometimes she forgets that Emma is the taller, between them. She is reminded of it now, as Emma’s expression turns feral, eyes flashing, and she feels the other woman’s arms lifting her bodily, and carrying her up the stairs.

Regina isn’t sure if she’s ever been so turned on in her life. As Emma drops her on her bed, predatorily stalking up her body, she swallows, hard, and rubs her legs together, trying to quench even a modicum of the ache burning between them.

“Ah, ah.” Emma scolds, seizing Regina’s knees and forcing them apart, settling herself between them, the gentle positioning of her body on top of Regina belying her underlying care, even as her hands knead Regina’s flesh sharply.

Regina moans, her legs wrapping around Emma automatically, unable to stop herself from thrusting up unconsciously into the washboard abs of the woman above her, rocking her hips in tiny circles, attempting to gain even the slightest friction, but Emma slides forward, seizing her wrists and pinning them above her head with one hand, while her other hand drops to Regina’s waist, halting the smaller woman’s visceral pleading.

“Emma…” Regina implores, head shaking back and forth on the pillow, deliriously, “Emma, I need-”

“You need exactly what I give you - no more, no less.” Emma murmurs hotly against Regina’s ear, peppering soft kisses against her jaw, and Regina sobs, straining to touch Emma with any part of exposed skin she can manage, but Emma avoids her deftly, controlling their contact with dexterity.

“Can you keep these here for me?” Emma asks, squeezing Regina’s hands in reference. Regina takes a few tremulous calming breaths and nods, reaching out to grab the slats of the headboard, and Emma smiles, rewarding her compliance with a deep and sensual kiss that leaves Regina panting desperately.

Her hands reach up to undo the buttons of Regina’s blouse - one by one the fabric drops away, revealing toned and tan flesh beneath it. Emma follows her fingers with her tongue, pressing wet trails of heat into Regina’s skin, unwrapping her like a present. She nips lightly at the exposed skin beneath her teeth and revels in Regina’s sharp inhalation, soothing her attacks carefully with light and teasing caresses.

Her hands deftly flick open the front clasp of Regina’s bra, and she slides the cups to the side, exposing Regina’s full breasts and heaving chest to her gaze.

“ _Ohh_ shit, Regina” Emma moans, hands cupping the perky flesh, thumbs sliding over Regina’s hardening nipples, unable to stop herself from thrusting hard into the body below her as she does so, causing both women to gasp, as the feeling of their bodies colliding sends an electric shock through both of their systems.

Emma latches on to Regina’s nipple, sucking hard on the responsive peak, and Regina cries out at the contact, thrusting her chest forward into Emma’s mouth, desperate for more. Emma obliges, switching her mouth to the opposite breast and circling her thumb around the reddened and over-sensitized area left behind, drawing patterns over and around, causing Regina’s head to thrash back and forth on the pillow above her.

She’s dripping by now, she can feel it, and she wants nothing more than for Emma to rip her slacks off and drive her fingers into her, _fuck her_. She is aware that she is losing control, _if she ever even had it in the first place_ , she thinks wildly, and she writhes under Emma’s ministrations, unable to quench the need rising up in her belly, frantic for touch, contact, _anything_.

Emma seems to sense her desperation and pulls her up, swiftly, tearing off her shirt and bra, and then removing her own. Emma’s skin is golden, like the rest of her, the creamy expanse of skin now exposed to her is perfect and unblemished, and she reaches out, unable to resist pulling Emma into her, the heat of their skin pressed together almost enough to make her weep, soothing her and igniting her passion at the same time.

She runs her hands over the muscles of Emma’s back, digging her fingers into taut shoulder blades, and sinking her teeth sharply into the trapezius muscles where Emma’s neck meets her collarbone and the reaction is primal and instantaneous as Emma drives her entire weight forward, forcing the wind out of Regina as her hips buck down, pressing into Regina exactly where she needs it, the pressure on her clit enough to make her cry out, and she ruts up against Emma’s strength, desperate to come, the feeling of Emma’s weight bearing down on her assaulting her most base desires.

Emma pulls back and slides down her body, ripping Regina’s slacks off her body, and Regina lifts her hips eagerly, their interests perfectly aligned. Emma doesn’t bother pulling Regina’s underwear down, just rips them off, licking her lips as she groans appreciatively and moves forward to wrap Regina’s lower body in an obscene embrace, her tongue sliding along Regina’s dripping entrance, her arms winding around Regina’s legs, hands pressing against sculpted hipbones to hold the other woman in place, as she drives her tongue into Regina’s slick heat.

Regina screams, her voice cracking, and she grips Emma’s thick locks, holding her in place, unwilling to part with this exquisite touch even for a second. She can feel Emma’s tongue, wet and lithe inside her, touching here, there, and back again, fucking her swiftly, unrelenting and demanding, wringing every drop of pleasure from her undulating body, causing Regina to shake as she nears the edge.

“Em-ma” she chokes out and she can feel Emma pressing even deeper, can feel her inner muscles contracting as she flies over the edge, body spasming, an unbearably rich wash of convulsions spreading through her every nerve.

She cries out in relief, as she comes, fingers locked in Emma’s hair, unable to move, unable to catch her breath, unable to do anything but accept the sensations Emma gives her, until she is done, Emma releasing her hold, untangling Regina’s fingers for her, sliding up her body and kissing her wetly, tongues sliding against each other, hotly.

She can taste herself on Emma’s lips, the knowledge making little spasms of leftover orgasmic energy shoot through her, and she unconsciously licks the corners of Emma’s mouth, cleaning her own essence off the other woman until she can taste only Emma beneath her tongue, and she kisses her soundly, head dropping back against the pillow as she watches the other woman’s jaw clench, her want manifesting soundlessly in her face.

Her hands drifts dazedly to cup Emma’s jaw and she soothes the tense muscles under her touch with her thumbs, brushing Emma’s wayward hair out of her eyes, and murmuring tenderly “what do you need?”

Emma rests her forehead against Regina’s and grinds against the woman below her. Regina isn’t sure she realizes she’s doing it, fairly sure that Emma’s need is overwhelming her control, at the moment.

“Yeah?” she asks, and moves her hips to meet Emma’s, rocking slightly against the other woman questioningly. Emma groans, and nods, thrusting deeper into her, her head dipping to Regina’s neck, teeth grazing Regina’s throat, and she reaches downward to shove Emma’s jeans off, as far as she can, using her feet to slide them the final distance down Emma’s legs and pulling the other woman into her, finally, _finally_ feeling Emma, bare against her where she needs her most.

She sighs in pleasure at the feeling of Emma’s wetness sliding against her own, reveling in the sensation before considering something and leaning back, reaching up to slide Emma’s hair behind her ear, asking softly “Is this how you normally do this?”

Emma stares at her, confused, not understanding. Regina bites her lip, and decides to play a hunch, hands pulling at thin air like she’s playing an imaginary harp, and Emma starts suddenly, feeling coolness wrap around her hips, but Regina holds her in place until she’s finished, Emma now wearing a flesh colored strap on, _her own strap on_ , she realizes.

“How on earth...?” she asks nervously, startled at not only Regina’s level of perception, but also the fact that she was _able to call forth Emma’s own cock from a dresser halfway across town holy shit,_ but Regina merely smiles impishly, shaking her head and purring “Emma. Fuck me.” as she rolls her hips up to meet Emma’s new appendage.

Her wetness meets the tip of Emma’s cock and Emma jerks at the sensation, the head pushing against Regina’s opening, bluntly demanding entrance. Emma groans and drops her head to Regina’s shoulder, panting with the effort of keeping herself in check. Regina reaches down and wraps her hands around Emma’s length, causing Emma to thrust forward, into her hands, and she guides Emma inside her, feeling herself stretch around Emma’s girth, moaning thankfully into Emma’s ear.

Emma presses forward, sinking into Regina, slowly, allowing time for her walls to stretch around Emma’s thickness, until she is buried in the woman. Regina curls her hands around Emma’s biceps, coiling her legs around Emma’s waist and pulls the other woman into her as far as she can go.

Emma sobs in relief, feeling the need to empty herself in the other woman bubbling up, and she chokes “Please, Regina, I need to-”. Regina nods quickly, and her hands skate over Emma’s back, encouragingly.

Emma pulls out and slams in again, in one swift motion, her need overriding her caution, and she buries herself over and over again in Regina’s body, amazed at how tightly the other woman’s muscles grip her, hips twisting to hit both of their clits at the same time as she thrusts in, Regina crying out in pleasure beneath her, screaming “Fuck!” as Emma pounds into her slick channel.

Emma pulls out, snarling feverishly “such a dirty mouth on such a pretty face. Maybe I should teach you a lesson in vulgarity.” She smacks Regina’s leg, lightly, and sharply orders “turn over”. Regina scrambles to comply, as Emma positions her exactly where she wants her, one hand on the back of Regina’s neck, holding her down, and the other trailing lightly against her luscious backside, caressing her soft skin.

Emma moans at her hasty submission, and breathes out, “Look at you, you’re a vision.”

Regina rocks her hips back, desperately, trying to establish contact, but Emma grips her hips tightly, holding her in place. “Uh-uh” she chastises, and Regina holds still, trembling with excitement.

Emma grasps her cock with one hand, and slides her bulbous head against the length of Regina’s entrance, up and down, bumping her clit on every stroke until Regina is panting and begging for more. Emma stuffs just the tip inside and Regina can feel Emma’s hand working over herself, masturbating herself, jacking herself off, sliding the base of the toy against her own clit with every stroke, driving herself into a frenzy of need, and Regina nearly faints with a wave of corresponding lust.

Regina slides her hand down to her own clit, desperately, and she can tell Emma is watching because her hand stops moving, and she puts on a show - lest Emma try to stop her - sliding her fingers through her own wetness, panting and moaning loudly, shuddering every time she touches the swollen bundle of nerves, fucking herself on the meager few inches of cock that Emma has allowed her.

She wants to come, yes, but she _needs_ Emma to come. Needs it, more than she needs her own release, at the moment, and she doesn’t have to wait long. Emma, overcome by the wanton woman below her, presses inside her once more, sliding out and slamming back in, over and over, until Regina is shouting with the intensity and depth of this position, Emma’s hips pistoning in and out of her, driving her hand against her clit, again and again, forcibly propelling her across the edge.

She screams as she goes over, her inner muscles pulsating, rippling around Emma’s cock, milking her, and that’s the last straw for Emma as she empties herself inside Regina, with a groan, convulsing with aftershocks, riding each wave out until she is done, collapsing against Regina’s back.

Regina is shaking, hypersensitive from the aftermath of two orgasms, and Emma makes to roll off her with a muffled apology, but Regina grabs her hands before she can pull away, wrapping them around herself, and surrounding herself with a makeshift Emma cocoon, nuzzling happily against the other woman’s hands.

Emma smiles gently, and pulls out of Regina carefully, the toy disappearing with a flick of Regina’s fingertips, and Emma shrugs the blankets down over them, snuggling into Regina’s back, comfortably, closing her eyes and slipping into an enjoyable post coital haze, content.

 _Really_ , she thought dreamily, _she could get used to paperwork_ …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm considering making this into something more like an adventure story. I like the characterization here, so I'm going to leave it open in case I get hit with a plot bunny.


End file.
